


Playing with Fire

by andthewhales



Series: Daddy and His Boy at the End of the World [2]
Category: Walking Dead, Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Age Play, Bratting, Daddy Kink, M/M, Punishment, Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 07:12:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2015829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andthewhales/pseuds/andthewhales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl finds out what happens when you push your Daddy too far.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing with Fire

"Is this good, Daddy?"

Rick groans as his gaze trails down to the man settled between his legs. His pants and boots lay in a heap in the corner and his shirt’s undone, hanging open at his sides. Daryl is on his knees, still fully clothed, a self-satisfied smirk plastered across his face as he strokes Rick's length with a loose fist. He slips his thumb idly over the tip, clearly pleased with himself when his lover writhes and arches toward him, struggling against the handcuffs that have him stretched out like an offering, arms raised, muscles taught.

"When you let me out, little boy, you're gonna be in a world of trouble," he growls.

Daryl shivers and his grip tightens around him ever so slightly, unintentionally, but when he flicks his eyes up to meet Rick's heated stare, the smile is still dancing at the corners of his mouth. "S'a good thing you ain't out then, huh?"

Rick bites back the curses itching at the back of his throat and watches with heat in his eyes as his lover pulls out a condom, nimbly tearing open the wrapper and rolling it on with admirable speed. He cranes his neck down and laps lightly at the tip, tongue soft but insistent, warm and wet and nudging in against the slit and dragging just beneath the flared head. Daryl removes his hands from Rick’s cock and moves to grope and rub roughly at his hips, seeking out the sensitive juncture, digging in against the bone hard enough to bruise.

Rick hums in appreciation despite the circumstances when lips finally close around him, sealing him in the sweet sensation of heat and suction and oh, god it’s so hard to remember that his little boy is being very bad right now. He tries to arch forward, deeper into the enticing void but Daryl moves in time with each thrust, leaning back to ensure that his lips never move past the head. Rick can feel the wicked smirk around his length when he hisses and yanks in desperation at his bonds, rattling them against the bars of the cell.

It’s the perfect distraction, until questing hands travel back to cup the older man’s ass. Hesitant fingers knead at the soft flesh and slowly spread his cheeks apart, just wide enough to slip a finger between them and tease at the hole. Rick jerks his hips forward suddenly, away from the invasive digit and casts a warning glare down at Daryl.

“You’re playing with fire right now, sweetheart, and you are going to regret it.”

“Promise?” Daryl brats back, eyebrows arched in a challenge. Rick blinks in surprise but quickly schools his face back into a stern expression, staring down his baby boy until the other looks away with a blush ghosting his cheeks. Daryl doesn’t take Rick back into his mouth, but instead places his pouting lips just above the now-leaking member, kissing at the older man’s stomach and nosing the patch of hair trailing downward. Every so often he pauses to blow teasing breaths at his bobbing, reddening flesh, eyes flicking up to gauge his Daddy’s reaction. Daryl’s hands continue caressing and squeezing at Rick’s backside, dotting his skin with crescent moon indents and goosebumps, but not daring to move further.

The hunter manages to behave for all of two minutes before Rick feels a deft finger slip in again, nudging at his entrance with more force than before. Sighing loudly in frustration he twists away out of Daryl’s grasp, dislodging his hold as much as the handcuffs will allow. Before the other man can react he brings one knee up between them, holding his boy back.

“That’s one,” he barks out, and it’s his turn to show teeth in a wolfish grin when his little boy pulls away to sit up straighter, surprise and displeasure evident in his features.

“That ain’t fair, I was just playin’.”

“Two.”

“Daddy-”

“You sure you wanna keep arguing?”

The scowl he receives would have been intimidating in any other circumstance, but at that moment it only adds fuel to the fire burning in his gut. Despite his pouting, Rick can see the clear outline of the erection straining against Daryl’s jeans. And even as the hunter angrily shoves at Rick’s knee and moves away, his hands play at the edges of his shirt and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He stands before Rick, awaiting instruction.

“Thank you,” Rick says, his tone distant and indifferent. Daryl’s face twists from anger to disappointment at the words, and Rick knows exactly what it is his little boy wants to hear, the loving endearments and praise he’s craving.

“Handcuffs,” he commands instead. His face remains blank while the younger man retrieves the key from the nightstand. Clearly still displeased, Daryl holds himself as far away as he can when he reaches up to unlock the cuffs, arching away from the body he’d been teasing just moments ago. Rick misses the contact but steels his concentration to the task at hand. 

“Clothes off.”

Daryl undresses at a snail’s pace, giving Rick time to work the blood and feeling back into his arms, stretching and rotating his shoulders while feigning a pained expression and groaning. Daryl’s eyes flick back and forth between his lover’s face and the ground, guilt settling into the crease of his brow as he peels away layers of clothing. Rick turns his back to hide the smirk and approaches the bed, reaching underneath to produce a small box. 

It was something he’d come across quite by accident a while ago and hadn’t found a chance to use just yet, especially since Daryl had been instigating their time together more and more often, demanding immediate attention and taking on air of aggression that Rick had been unsure of how to handle. Tonight’s actions, however, were by far the most belligerent, and he thought perhaps his little secret might be the perfect way to curb his little boy’s intolerable behavior.

“I’d planned on saving this for a special occasion, but now I’m thinking it will make for a very fitting punishment.”

When he reveals the toy, six inches of smooth lavender silicone, Daryl’s mouth falls open, just the tiniest bit, and the blush that floods his features is darker than Rick’s ever seen it before.

“I ain’t touchin’ that.”

It only takes three short strides for Rick to cross the room and invade Daryl’s space. He fists his one hand tightly in Daryl’s hair, pulling back far enough to expose the boy’s throat, and the startled gasp he receives sends shivers down his spine.

“You’ll do as you’re told,” he rumbles darkly. Daryl nods, almost imperceptibly, and Rick drops his grip from the long brown hair and instead takes the hunter firmly but gently by the wrist, leading him back to the bed with only some resistance. Daryl’s eyes are still glued to the object in Rick’s other hand.

He sets the toy to the side and silently maneuvers his boy to lean over the bed, hands planted in the mattress, feet spread apart and ass exposed. They’re both accustomed to the routine of preparation, and Daryl begins to relax slightly at the familiar feeling of Rick’s fingers stretching him open. His back arches when Rick thrusts a second finger in beside the first, the roll of his hips seeking out more, deeper, faster. Rick does his best to remain clinical in his actions, ignoring the little sounds that start to spill forth, the keening plea for him to brush against the sweet, waiting bundle of nerves.

When he gathers the toy and aligns the tip with Daryl’s entrance, he is prepared for the anxious flinch and steadies his lover with a firm hand on his hip.

“Stay still,” he orders, though he gentles his voice minutely. “You brought this on yourself, and you’re gonna take your punishment without a fuss. Show me you can be a good boy.”

Daryl breaths hard through his nose but holds his position, waiting for Rick to continue.

“You’re going to fuck yourself with this while you use your mouth on Daddy,” he explains, “and you’re not gonna come until I say so. Understand?”

Daryl whines in protest but is silenced by the tightening of Daddy’s grip on his waist. He glances back over his shoulder to hold Rick’s gaze for just a moment before lowering his eyes and ducking his head in submission. Rick rewards him with a chaste press of lips against his spine, and slowly, so slowly, eases the toy inside his lover. Daryl shudders at the foreign feeling of the cold, unyielding length, shifting and groaning in protest but obediently holding his position until the toy is settled inside.

“Thank you,” Rick says lightly, as though it were little more than an off-hand comment, and delights in the clench of Daryl’s jaw, the way his hands fist in the sheets.

Rick clambers onto the mattress and situates himself at the head of the bed, one leg bent up against the wall and one casually slung over the edge, giving Daryl enough room to kneel between them. At first his little boy is hesitant to touch him, jaw still tight with resentment, the muscles of his back tensed against the intrusive object. He reaches down between his legs to touch at it experimentally, wrapping his fingers around the base and tugging lightly. A surprised moan falls from his lips when it slides out easily, the smooth texture creating just enough drag to be noticed, but nowhere near enough to satisfy.

The flush that blooms across his face when he presses it back up inside himself makes Rick burn with need, and he fights the desperate desire to take hold of the dildo himself, to torment his lover’s body with it until he’s helpless and crying for more. He hastily distracts himself from the thought and palms at his erection, clearing his throat and reminding Daryl of his impending task.

Daryl finally lowers himself down and mouths wetly at Rick's cock, lavishing sloppy kisses down the shaft before taking him fully into his mouth. Rick’s jaw goes slack and for a moment he is helpless once again, lost in the sweet, velvety void, the slide of wet friction along the underside, and chapped lips dragging up and down so, so slowly. When he regains his composure he notes how Daryl’s still hunched over, hand between his legs shallowly thrusting the toy into himself, and he scoffs, knowing his baby can do better.

"Uh-uh. Ass in the air, little boy. Show me."

Daryl whines but does as he's told, arching his back, all muscle and feline grace even when he's needy and pouting. The sound vibrates past his lips and into Rick, making the older man shudder and it’s a true test of strength not to cup the back of Daryl's head and push until he can feel the back of his lover’s throat.  
Daryl’s repositioned himself, now reaching behind to slide the toy back into place, and from this angle Rick can see how his hole stretches to accommodate the girth of the dildo. Not once throughout the transition does Daryl take his mouth off of Rick, and for that he receives the gentle brush of fingers on his cheek, stroking at the coarse hairs that pepper his jawline. 

“That’s it. Just like that.”

The hunter whines again because Rick still hasn’t said the words he needs to hear most, but still he leans into the touch, seeking whatever comfort he can get. His hand on the toy slows as he focuses his efforts on Rick, forcing himself down further onto his cock until he’s almost choking on it, tongue flickering against his flesh like fire. And fuck, Rick’s never seen a more perfect sight in his life. His little boy, so willing to please, sucking and moaning like he was made for it.

“Is this what you wanted, little boy, Daddy’s attention? Is that why you were being so naughty?” He can barely get the words out, it feels like he’s being burned alive, and he can feel every point where Daryl’s skin is pressed against his own like it’s branding him.

Daryl keens and pulls off of him, licks hastily down to where his balls hang heavy and tight, and rolls his tongue against them, nips and sucks and nuzzles at the sensitive skin. His whiskers are a harsh contrast to the dexterous tongue, scraping against his thighs. Rick moans loud enough to echo in the confines of the cell, but he’ll be damned if he can find it in him to care right now.

“Weren’t tryin’a be bad, Daddy. Just wanted to play.” When Daryl speaks his voice is rough and raw from his efforts and he’s out of breath.

The toy is dipping in and out faster now, the rhythm uneven, and Rick can tell he’s starting to lose control as well. The lapping of his tongue is replaced with haphazard open-mouthed kisses and the soft, short huffs of breathy moans.

“You’re getting too close, baby boy,” he gasps out. It’s a miracle he can even talk now, the edges of his orgasm are creeping up on him, wrapping around his insides and tightening like a vice. “Both hands on the bed, now. Leave it inside you.”

Daryl sobs and pushes the toy in deep, to the hilt, his muscles trembling at the effort of holding it in. His arms come up to bracket Rick’s hips and he dutifully moves his mouth back up onto Rick’s length, relaxing his throat and whimpering desperately when fingers tangle tightly in his hair, urging him forward and down. His hands scrabble at the sheets as Rick fucks his mouth, thrusting once, twice, three times before he spills down his throat with a broken cry.

The pleasure blinds him, whiting out everything but the tight, endless intensity of feeling. He lingers in its embrace, eyes fluttered shut in bliss, body limp and oversensitive and twitching against the insistent force against his side. When he comes back Daryl’s rubbing his face into Rick’s ribs, goatee scratching a burn across the skin. He’s barely able to keep himself upright on shaky forearms and his hips are rocking in minute circles, seeking friction and relief from the silicone torment that’s still buried inside him. The hunter’s breath marks his lover’s body with apologies, mumbled pleas of I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry.

“Alright, alright,” Rick shushes him, tugging him forward into his lap. He reaches around to ease the toy out, dropping it onto the mattress. He presses two fingers into the slick cavern with little resistance and scissors them wide, drawing every beautiful sound he can from the writhing form above him.

“You did so good, sweetheart. Such a good boy,” he praises, finally, smiling faintly when Daryl mewls and thrusts into him, grinding against his stomach and then back onto his hand. Rick adds a third finger and swears he can feel the moans reverberate in the ring of muscle clenching around him. “Can you do one more thing for Daddy? Can you come for me, baby?”

He feels Daryl nod into his shoulder, words already lost to pleasure and it’s mere seconds before the body in his arms goes rigid and nails dig into his back, surely leaving more marks.

“Good boy,” he soothes, cradling his lover’s fall from orgasm with gentle touches and sweet, tender praise. He noses his way under Daryl’s chin, kissing a lazy path up to thin, perfect lips. He can taste the traces of himself, bitter and salty, mixed in with the undeniable flavor that was his baby boy. Daryl sighed into his hair and wiggled closer, relaxing into the embrace having finally obtained his praise.

“Love you, Daddy,” he mumbled.

“Love you, too, sweetheart.”

**Author's Note:**

> Still not feeling 100% about this one, but it passed raisingnome's inspection, so up it goes. Hope you like it, and if not, constructive criticism is always welcome. Long live the kink.


End file.
